Whoops! I nearly did it again.
Not even a month has passed since I was warning about the trap of productivity culture, and I had to pull myself free once again!
It happened because I had the notion to write micro fiction or stories with no prescribed length. I wasn’t sure what to call them because definitions are both indistinct and unessential. I am writing for me, not for approval.
My mind quickly cooked up a scheme where I could write a few stories ready and then post one a week to the Internet. With this in mind, I eagerly made a placeholder page on lesliepoet.com for my new pieces. Not long after I had two stories written, ready to edit; I was cooking. It was only then, when I was trying (by that I mean) actively searching for an idea as opposed to writing an idea out for fun, that I realised that I was about to launch myself into a big mistake.
Firstly, and obviously, I fell down the productivity trap, instantly deciding to commit to an output schedule. I have fallen for “content” brainwashing, feeling that I have to be continually posting content to even stay still. I am not playing that game! I remind myself constantly that I am not a content creator, that I am not aiming to create work that is disposable and forgettable. Through introspection, I realised that fame and wealth do not motivate me. I love external validation, but I want it to be via connection, something more significant than the click of the like button. I have in mind the stories of creators who get thousands of likes and have three people turn up to a meet and greet. For me it would be better to get three likes, plan for ten and have a hundred show up.
My second mistake was thinking that the internet is all that matters. With the loss of forums and the rise of social media I have gotten a little lost in the resulting complexity. Maybe I am falling for a particular narrative, but lately, the internet seems more hostile than it is anything else. Everyone wants the tallest building by knocking all the others down.
I am prone to thinking only inside the internet. As if online is the only route available. This year, I set myself the task of making submissions and publishing my own zine. Alongside these, I set myself the challenge of being part of the real-life poetry scene, attending workshops and events. It isn’t easy with my health putting its spanners in the works, but I have done it and I can be proud of that.
In planning to drop a story online every week, I wasn’t thinking outside a narrow social media box. I forgot about the whole literary ecosystem that is not internet driven, but that uses the internet as a communication tool to enable people to connect outside digital boundaries. I also forgot that what gets you to where you are isn’t what gets you to the next stage. Changing and growing are part of the journey.
I am, of course, learning on the job; both in the literary and living with disability senses. Every day is a school day, I am learning more about the poetry scene, the craft of writing and what I can sensibly achieve. I am enjoying the journey, and that was the point of resetting away from social media and metrics all along. I wanted to enjoy the process, to be excited, not downcast, and I have been achieving that.
As I venture through it, the literary world keeps growing; there are a mind-boggling array of different avenues and endeavours to pursue. My challenge is not to find better ways to get noticed by algorithms; my challenge is to expand and find the lanes and niches where I belong, to find my tribe and my villages so I can thrive and keep moving. My idea was a good one, write stories I want to tell at the length I want to tell them at. My mistake was to think that creativity needed to be harnessed to a content creation horse to exist.
I have no reason to be internet focused let alone obsessed. The internet has, following my initial successes, been distinctly shit. Shifts in the social media landscape have punted me back into the dark ages. If there is a message, then it is that algorithms don’t want me. The algorithm doesn’t think it is worth showing my work for people to reject. Doing what I had always done wasn’t getting me what I had always got; it has been getting me less and less.
I am learning; last week I didn’t want to post a poem, so I didn’t, feel much the same this week too. The algorithm will no doubt punish me for that disobedience. As the first quarter of 2026 starts to close, I still want to publish a zine, a collection, submit to publications and explore the literary world; what I have learned is that the online space is only a part of it. My focus has to be on enjoying my projects, not bashing my head on an internet shaped brick wall.
I will keep on – keeping on, only smarter and not only for the internet.
